A Distance of Seven Inches
by KeyLimeChibi
Summary: He's fourteen -- almost fifteen! -- and five feet tall. She's twenty-one and towers seven inches above him. He's decided to confess the day they stand equally. Until then, he's got seven inches taller to grow. Post-game, slight AU, minor minor spoilers.
1. Prologue

_Ahh, I'm so nervous about posting here. . . but whatever. Some of you may have seen this on Livejournal already, but I thought I might as well get around to posting something on here. Enjoy! Chapters and epilogue will be put up quickly. (Seeing as they're already done.)_

_Also, to explain my wacked out AU: I haven't finished the game yet, sob. BUT I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS . . . now. I know a lot of things aren't canonically accurate to the post-game-ness (Fang and Vanille, Cocoon, etc.) but just bear with me, if you will!  
_

* * *

A little ways away, she sat polishing the blade of her weapon, occasionally flipping it to switch it into a gun. Thoroughly and efficiently making sure everything worked, that everything was in place. He wasn't facing her – a little off to the side, actually. Snow finally gave in to building curiosity, and walked up to Hope as he continued to stare and tilt his head from side to side.

"Okay, this is bugging me." Snow crossed his arms after flicking Hope's shoulder to get the boy's attention. "Just what the hell are you doing?"

"H-huh? What?" Hope shuddered out of his zoning state, taken by surprise. He looked up at Snow. "Er. . ."

"You've been staring into space for a good twenty minutes now."

"I-it doesn't matter."

"I think it does." Snow sat down next to Hope, staring in the same direction he had been all that time. Besides the vast scenery, the only thing to see in said direction was Lightning's back, as she continued to load ammo and polish.

Hope grumbled. "I'm trying to figure out how tall Lightning is."

"She's 5'7"."

"Yeah, that's what I—WHAT." Hope looked at Snow like he had a foreign growth on his face. "How the hell do you know?"

Snow shrugged. "Serah told me once. She tried to get Lightning to go dress shopping at some point, but all the stuff Serah tried to get her to wear ended up too short for Lightning's liking, 'cause she was too tall for some of it. I don't see a problem, but I guess she's just real obtuse when it comes to dressing up."

Hope pulled his knees closer and sank. "Dammit. . . seven whole inches. . ."

"Why? She's a tall lady, I don't see what the problem is."

Was he really going to tell this to Snow, of all people? Well, yes.

"Because I'm only 5'0"."

Snow laughed. "Aw, don't worry 'bout it munchkin. Sooner or later you'll grow your first chest hair and grow a foot taller and –"

"Snow!" Hope smacked his arm, less effectively than he wished. "That's not the point. I mean . . . I was thinking –"

"You're not man enough to stand next to Lightning, right?" Another overly peppy voice invaded from behind. Vanille's creamsicle curls filled the space between Snow and Hope, Fang close behind.

"Wha—well, er. . ." Hope blushed furiously, hiding his face again.

"Aw, how cute! The little boy's got a crush on a woman!" Fang grinned mischievously.

He was in love with her. Through a well-progressed, unquestionable turn of events. Pre-l'cie, Hope would admit, Lightning was _scary as hell turned over._ And that didn't change for a good chunk of their journey. But in his own head, his own sort view, she completes him – in the sense that she is everything he is not. She's outwardly strong, tall, mature and knows no fear. She can take command and hold her own in any situation. He, on the other hand, was short and naïve, with a childish stubborn quality that he just couldn't seem to remedy. He wasn't particularly interesting or outstanding and she was someone you could stare at for hours just to _wonder_ what kind of person she is, with that cold outer shell and everything else.

She is a palette of strong, noticeable colours, and he is beige. She's absolutely gorgeous, stunningly so, and he is a child.

"I'm not a little boy!" Hope protested with another grumble. "B-but . . . I haven't stopped growing yet!"

"So then what's the plan, young man?" Vanille poked his cheek playfully, before stepping back so Hope had room to stand up.

"I-I'm working on it. I'll . . . I'll tell her. . . when I'm taller. When I get to 5 foot 7 too. Then I won't seem like such a kid." Hope clenched a fist purposefully. Snow stood up too, and punched him in the arm.

"That's the spirit!" Snow laughed.

"What're you doing?"

Lightning approached them, eyebrow quirked. Everyone – well, mostly Hope – turned a blind eye and whistled.


	2. 5'1 Starting Slowly

**5'1" – Starting slowly. **

Hope never had a specific fondness for milk before – now he was drinking it every day. Though he was originally obsessive about checking his height out of excitable paranoia, Over the past month or so it slowed to a rough guestimation check every other week. He finally decided that yes, he would have to patient. Dammit. He was fifteen already – Fang laughed and just said he was a late bloomer.

"She's just monstrously tall is all," Hope grumbled into a carton of 1 percent, walking home from school.

"Who is?"

"Just about every girl I know—" He turned around. "Sazh!"

The friendly older man waved with a grin. Sazh went to explain that he was in Palumpolum for the day for work, and he was going to pop in and visit. Hope suggested going out to get some food. They talked about a lot of things – all their times together, about school (Dajh and Hope himself), etc.

"So, have you seen Lightning or the rest in the past while?"

Hope nearly choked on his mouthful of food, but ever so gracefully covered it up with a mumbled coughing and hacking. "N-no, not recently," he said after recovering. "Why?"

"Ah, 'cause I got the invite for Snow and Serah's wedding in the mail a little while ago. It's a good ways ahead, but I'm sure you got one too."

Hope vaguely remembered his dad saying something about mail for him that morning. "Yeah, I got one too. What do you mean, a good ways ahead?"

"Well, no matter what he claims, Mr. Hero is still jobless as far as I know," Sazh chuckled. "They're having their ceremony in 6 months or so, to earn some money first."

"Six months isn't that long."

"Long enough," Sazh shrugged.

Hope laughed. "What about Light? I guess she's busy helping Serah."

The elder gave a dry laugh. "Son, I think she's busier making sure Snow keeps his paws off her sister than doing any kind of wedding planning."

Hope mentally winced. Snow never learned – ever – how to deal with Lightning without walking away bruised. ". . . Have you ever thought of getting remarried, Sazh?"

Sazh quirked a brow, but smiled wryly nonetheless. "Well, I can't say I haven't thought about it. But I loved my wife, y'know? And I doubt I'll find someone to replace her."

Hope felt a little bad about asking, thinking about it now. Sazh didn't think much of his curiosity, and continued with the conversation. "Strange for a teen to be thinking about marriage," He chuckled before adding, "You thinking of proposing any time soon?"

Hope went beat red, and all of a sudden his lap became the most interesting thing and he just couldn't look away. A rabid teen's imagination was a frighteningly vivid thing. All of a sudden in his head he saw that white and blue chapel his parents' wedding pictures showed, only it was Lightning behind a veil and their friends were sitting in the pews and –

_Oh. My. God,_ Hope mentally died on the inside, _I have to be the lamest guy over Pulse AND Cocoon._

**AN:**

HAHAHA. I love Sazh. I really do. BUT I HAD ABSOLUTELY NOWHERE TO STICK HIM IN THIS BECAUSE HE'S NOT A CATALYST LIKE VANILLE OR FANG. Thus the beginning. Also, Hope is still young. And good young'uns should still be in school! [/is still a young'un in school too] So yes, school is a bit of a catalyst every now and then in this too.


	3. 5'2 It's called 'determination'

**5'2" – It's called 'determination'.**

Hope finally acknowledged that dammit, he's terrible at lying or anything of the sort and he can never hide _anything._ It was so irritatingly apparent in hindsight, since the minute his father said he was going to Bodhum for a business trip Hope practically _jumped _at him and asked if he could come along. He was well past fifteen now, and grew a couple inches too! Sure, it was only two, but he was sure he would get taller sooner or later.

(That damn milk better be paying off, he thought to himself.)

So it didn't take much to find the directions to Lightning's house, but Hope was book smart. Common-sense wise, not too bad either, but apparently that meant absolutely nothing when he realized after ringing the doorbell, he has no idea what to say. Why is he in town? How does he know where her house is? And yes, does he actually feel more or less like a stalker?

"Hello?" A voice comes through the intercom, calm as usual. It's her and oh god, he almost gagged from surprise and nerves.

"It's . . . Hope," He managed to choke out, hoping to anything and everything that his voice doesn't crack.

"Hope?" She repeated, surprise obvious in her tone. "Hold on a second."

She opened the gate and door for him, letting him in. It was then he figured that he hadn't really ever seen her in anything but her work clothes. Work being a soldier, of course.

In the back of his mind, he could almost laugh that she was just the type he assumed – unless working or needing to be presentable, she wears whatever. In this case, it's a torn pair of jeans and a tank top. "What brings you here?" She asks.

"Ahh—" Lie? Truth? Lie? Truth? He was already apparently terrible at lying, so he went for the safest route. _And I have to make sure to NOT sound like a stalker._ "My Dad, he – he's on a business trip. He told me he was coming here, so I thought I could drop by. I mean, I found out where your house was, and didn't have much to do, so . . ." He trailed off, before shaking his head. _Shut up, mouth,_ the working part of his brain scolded. "B-but if you're busy, I can go back –"

"It's fine," She shook her head, a ghost of a smile as accompaniment. "Serah and Snow just left."

"Oh, they were here?" He asked the obvious. "V-visiting, I guess?"

"Yeah. Taking the last of her things out." She sounded kind of bitter. "Since they're getting married, they're moving in together at that big oaf's place." Lightning glanced to the stairs leading to the second floor. Hope followed her gaze, and could assume that the open door leading to a bare room was previously Serah's. Hope stared absent-mindedly as Lightning continued to walk further into the house.

"Will you be lonely living on your own?" He asked quietly, sheepishly.

Lightning shrugged. "I've been alone lots of times. It's fine. Though," she went into the kitchen, Hope following close behind, "Though, it kind of feels like a waste to have an empty room."

"Well if we have kids, problem solved."

It was hard to tell who was more shocked – Lightning or Hope. He swallowed hard, and looked around like she was holding him at gunpoint.

"What?"

"What?"

Silence.

Hope dove a hand into his pocket. "Ah, my phone's vibrating! Probably my Dad. Gotta go, I'll see you later!" He'd never run faster than he did out of that house, even when the bioweapons in Whitewood were on their heels. It felt like he was in an extreme sauna existing solely to burn his cheeks off.

_Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid – _


	4. 5'3 That Red Dress

**5'3" – That Red Dress.**

Serah was absolutely beaming, a beautifully trailing dress of white that followed her and Snow at the end of the ceremony out of the hall. It wasn't lavish, but the ceremony was sentimental and went off without a hitch, save for Snow being just a _little_ hung-over from his bachelor party and getting the crap smacked out of him by an irate Lightning in heels. So yeah, everything was perfect, save for the small bruise under the groom's right eye.

Speaking of Lightning, she was all he could see the entire time the priest spoke. Everyone 'aww'-d and 'ooh'-d and cried for Snow and Serah, and he did too when appropriate, but he kept looking at the Maid of Honour and _all that leg. _

(Why he failed to realize that Lightning had no qualms with showing leg during her entire journey in a leather mini skirt, who knows. Maybe it was something about being hunted down by the entire world.)

Taking Lightning's scarily deep frown before the ceremony, Hope could assume she did not choose to a. be the neither maid of honour nor b. pick the dress. Her dress was a deep rose red, a contrast to the pale of her skin and the whitened salmon curls of hair twisted at her neckline. Tastefully cut to reveal only a hint of cleavage, the straps tied behind her neck like a halter while the back looped to practically show off a backbone so strong you could bounce a quarter off it. The skirt flowed beautifully like layers of petals, starting and ending at a slit that started mid thigh and never ended, to show off the tie-up black solid heels that made her probably three inches taller.

_Which puts me right back at square one – seven inches shorter than her,_ Hope dully noted in the back of his mind.

So when the after party came around, everyone was having a good time – Lightning herself even seemed pretty cheerful, chatting with Vanille, in a fluorescently pink cocktail dress and Fang in a sleek strapless black. Hope himself was, of course, dressed for the occasion, in a black suit, vest and pale turquoise dress-shirt – though his hair had too much volume to stay slicked back for very long. Noticing him standing off to the side, Vanille took the liberty of skipping – how could she skip in _heels?_ – over to him and dragging him over to their table.

"Aren't you dashing tonight?" Fang laughed, clapping a hand on his back once he was within reach, pushing the poor boy forward. "I half expected you to come in your Dad's suit or something."

Hope grumbled embarrassedly. "I have my own suits . . ."

"And it suits you so well!" Vanille pinched his cheek, wiggling it appreciatively. _Oh, how punny._ Hope grimaced. No matter how tall he got, this wasn't going to change. "Don't you think, Lightning?"

Lightning shifted one leg over the other where she sat. (Revealing more leg, he couldn't help but notice.) Rimming her wine glass, she half-smiled. "It does suit him."

Hope looked at his feet. "Thanks," he mumbled even quieter.

"Time to throw the bouquet!"

Vanille practically oozed excitement. "Let's go, let's go!" Fang willingly followed, so Vanille took it upon herself to take Lightning's wrist into her hands and pull her along.

"No, I think I'll sit this one out –" Lightning began to say, reluctantly pulled out her seat with an awkward expression.

"No no! As the maid of honour, you _especially _have to try and catch the flowers!"

Was that a blush Hope noticed? Hmm. "I thought soldiers were brave enough for anything, Light?" he smirked. The teasing bravery he seemed to have acquired only lasted for about five seconds, before Lightning grabbed his wrist with her free hand and pulled him into the gaggle of women in the centre of the room.

"Wha—b-but I can't catch the thing, I'm a boy!"

"You're still a kid," Lightning smirked, flicking his forehead. In the midst of dying of embarrassment stuck in the middle of a circle of giggling women, he felt his heart sank.

He was still a kid.

Lost in his minor throe of depression, he looked up only in time to be roughly the equivalent of backhanded with a bouquet of flowers. All he heard was a "Oh my god Hope, I'm so sorr—" before tripping over someone's skirt and full on hitting his head off the ground.

. . . . . .

"—ou awake?"

Hope blinked his eyes open. He was lying down, and ow, his head throbbed. He looked up, seeing salmon pink hair and red dress. He sat up quickly – too quickly. Vertigo took over for the moment, and Lightning took his shoulders and guided him back to laying on her lap.

"Vanille caught the bouquet awkwardly and ended up basically punching you in the face."

"Ah, so that's what happened." Hope gave a dry laugh. Knocked out by the bride's bouquet, that was a new one. "How pathetic can I get?"

"It's not pathetic, it was an accident. And besides," Lightning said evenly, brushing his bangs back with the tip of her fingers, "you looked very grown up tonight."

Hope looked away and mumbled. "You look better." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that she ditched her heels off to the side.

**AN:**

I need to get away from wedding fics. I love them too much.


	5. 5'4 16th

**5'4" – 16****th****.**

_Worst. Birthday. Ever._

Hope didn't really care that he had to go to school on his birthday, or that his dad was away on a trip. He was trying his best to be patient, really! But in over a year, he'd only grown about four inches.

"At this rate, I'll be forty by the time I'm her height." He sighed, unlocking the door to his house. He slipped his shoes off, tossed his bag to the side and –

"What the hell man, you're not supposed to be _home_ yet!"

Hope looked up sharply, seeing Snow holding a ladder that held Vanille up, who had colourful loops of decoration tape in her hands. To the side, Fang was in the middle of painting 'Happy bi—' on a large white Canvas, Dajh on the side helpfully finger painting. Sazh poked his head out of the kitchen – _is he wearing Mom's apron?_ – with a bowl and mixing spoon in hand.

"Guys. . . ?"

"Uh. . . surprise!" Vanile beamed with an awkward smile. Serah came out of the kitchen too, with a tray of cookies.

"Ahh, Bartholomew told us you got off school at four!" She pouted, setting the tray down.

"I do usually, but today was a half day . . ." Hope was still too bewildered by the colourful tape and wrappings that now covered the front hall.

"Well it doesn't matter that much, does it?" Came Lightning's input from the living room – by the looks of it, she was wrestling with some navy blue wrapping paper. "We can just have the party half-decorated." She gave up, it seems, and left the present where it was. Everyone left their posts, coming to greet Hope, who was still standing at the door.

"Happy 16th birthday!"

**AN:**

- I wanted to do something general and I don't know why. That, and Hope had to get older somehow. And besides, I needed to save some length. . .


	6. 5'5 Sleepover

**5'5" – Sleepover **

So as to how he was roped into a girl's only sleepover ("_Va-jay-jays_ only," Fang wagged her finger at Snow) Hope wasn't sure. He found out later the real reason he was invited along, mid-evening at said sleepover.

"So let me get this straight," Hope addressed Lightning's kitchen full of women. (They had settled on Lightning's place for the sleepover, because she had the most space.) Fang pulling ingredients from the fridge, Vanille sitting on the counter, Lightning taking out cooking ware and Serah next to her. "Out of all four of you, _none_ of you can cook?"

He was answered by a round of nods. He grimaced. "R-really? I thought that was a girl thing though. . ."

"Think again, little chauvinist," Fang tutted, closing the fridge and crossing her arms. "I can cook meat – that's all. And Vanille –"

"Vegetarian, so I never cooked anything before in my life!" The ginger-haired girl piped in with a giggle.

"Serah, even you?" Hope turned to the younger Farron. Surely the most domesticated of them all would know _something—_

She shrugged. "Not especially. I can cook some things, but I've never really baked."

His last, pleading gaze fell on Lightning, who scowled awkwardly. "I never needed to cook. I worked." Serah held in her laughs for only a short time, before snorting.

"Sis always burns things to a crisp, or ends up full on setting them on fire," She gasped breathlessly with laughter, "you should've seen it when we tried to barbeque –"

"Serah!"

Hope couldn't help a laugh. How like her, he mused. "So you guys – er, girls – want to make something?"

"Yeah!" Vanille beamed. "A cake! We were gonna for your birthday last month, but the guys were absolutely no help. So we decide to make it a sleepover, for fun!"

"Of course the guys were no help," Fang scoffed confidently. "Snow's a gorilla and Sazh can't cook delicate things."

Hope gave a wry smile. That explained Sazh in the apron back at his makeshift birthday party – he had the most cooking experience of them all. The boy really was the last option. "Okay, I know one recipe my mom gave me. I'll show you guys . . ." Serah and Vanille whooped with praise, Fang smirked and punched his arm, while Lightning messed his hair.

The entire cooking process wasn't _too _disastrous. Fang messed up the measurements originally, but Vanille deciding to pour all the flour into one bowl remedied that. By the second run, they got past the measuring stage, and astoundingly, Lightning managed to set the batter on _fire._ They gave up on a third try, since in a panic Serah had doused all the guests, and about ¾ of the kitchen with the fire extinguisher.

The whole process, Hope would subtly move next to Lightning's side along the counter. (The other girls clearly noticed, always making space for him.) _Still too short,_ he dismayed, finding her eyes a row above his even now. He was getting there, getting there. Patience is key, he told himself.

Regardless, at around 10 at night without eating anything but burnt cake batter, they ordered food and that was that. Sleeping arrangements were decided by then, too. Vanille and Fang took the couch in Lightning's bedroom – the largest bedroom in the house – while Serah and Lightning took her bed. Hope, who was deliberating on giving some excuse to go home and _not_ spend the night with a handful of women was commanded to the floor. Needless to say, to save what little testosterone he still had, Hope feigned tired and opted to his lump of blankets on the floor. Conversation, however, gravitated to Lightning's bed where the girls sat at. A history of comradeship and disaster never stopped them from being girls, apparently.

"So we should play a game!" He heard Vanille suggest cheerily.

"What kind of game?" Lightning and Serah asked simultaneously.

"How 'bout truth or dare? A classic." He could hear the grin in Fang's accent.

"Good idea! Okay, let's have Serah go first. Truth or dare?"

Serah laughed good-naturedly. "Okay, truth."

Vanille hummed for a minute. "Have you done it with Snow yet?"

"Vanille!" He could imagine Lightning's abhorred face. Beneath the blanket, Hope silently snickered.

"Mhmm."

"Serah?"

_Poor Light. . . _That didn't stop him from continuing to smile into his pillow.

"Well, I'm not surprised," Fang laughed. "Honestly, I thought he'd get you knocked up way quicker."

Serah and Vanille laughed. Hope noted the absence of any sort of laughter from Lightning, who was probably scowling.

"Well, if you're gonna make that kind of face, how 'bout you then?" Fang teased. "Well, Lightning? You lost your big V yet?"

Vanille and Serah stopped laughing, seemingly interested in the answer. "I'm curious too, actually," Serah realized aloud. "The only guys I ever see you with are the army buffs."

Lightning scoffed. As to how much of a cover-up the action was, Hope couldn't tell. But even facing away and buried in a blanket, he was all ears and then some.

_She's probably had some kind of boyfriend before,_ Hope mulled over sourly. _Though. . . _

"No, I haven't."

And there went a round of gasps. "You mean. . . not even after getting drunk? Like, really drunk?" Even Fang was surprised, and it took a lot to surprise Fang.

"Intercourse is only useful to procreate. I don't plan on procreating."

Somewhere deep inside, Hope felt shot down already.

"Besides," Lightning continued to huff, though more of a grumble now, "Who would I do it with anyhow? I've always been single."

Vanille, as usual, was all too cheery to answer that one. Fang caught her mid-sentence and slapped a hand on her mouth, Hope could assume, from the sound of it. "Who? Well there's Hope of cou—"

"Excuse me?"

"WHAT."

"Hope? You were awake?"

"Uh—"

**AN:**

So, er, I was told that canonically both Serah and Lightning are good cooks. Whelp, good thing I made this AU in advance.

STRANGE AS IT SOUNDS I HAD TO TAKE A GOOD TWENTY MINUTES TO CONTEMPLATE LIGHTNING'S VIRGINITY. Her BAMF type normally isn't, but since she's taken on such a cold persona, I can't really see her getting the jig on with anyone.


	7. 5'6 Trouble

**5'6" – Trouble **

Hope looked over the printed paper his teacher handed him. _It's not like I really mind my Dad anymore, but . . . _He read over the print again. '_Take your kid to work day'? Really?_

So after bringing up the school-issued notice at dinner, his dad made probably the best suggestion he had ever given to his son – from his son's point of view, anyhow.

"Why not ask Lightning?" Bartholomew suggested over a plate of meatloaf. "I don't mind bringing you to my office for the day, but – I mean, it's not that interesting for a kid your age. An army office would probably be heaps more interesting – if you're careful, of course."

"Th-that's a great idea!" Hope stood up, hands slammed down purposefully on the table. "I'll call her right now!"

So with a quick trip to Bodhum on the day of, Hope was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he followed the directions Lightning forwarded to him over the phone. Of course, he never forgot about his enormously, unforgiving thought-occupying crush, but all of a sudden he was only an inch away from his goal.

Lightning was just outside the Guardian Corps office. She waved him over, he waved back. "I'll just be on patrol duty," She informed him soon after. "Nothing too glamourous."

Hope shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. It beats sitting around my Dad's office all day." He scuffed his feet, before they set out. Thinking about it, besides his visits to Lightning and his initial visit with his Mom, Hope hadn't really ever looked around Bodhum itself. Confessing at least that much to Lightning, the day became part-tour, part –job.

Hope vaguely remembered what Serah said before, at that dreaded sleepover. "So . . . are you close to anyone in the corps?" He asked, as casually as possible with his mouth over a soda – the last bit of his lunch.

Lightning shrugged. "Not especially. I don't mix well with . . . people."

"That's not true," Hope protested. Part of his mind was silently prodding with a _yes, actually, she is quite antisocial._

The rest of his mind, mainly the part that was infatuated with Lightning, told the silent prodding to _stuff it._

She looked him over a minute from across the table. He said nothing more, only twiddled his thumbs under the table.

"Have you . . . gotten taller?"

_SCORE._

His mind screamed with joy, wanting desperately to physically let out his joy and wrap his arms around his idol before him. Though all that came out was a very modest, very controlled,

"I . . . think so." Hope itched at the back of his neck. "I mean. . . I went through some of my old clothes the other day, and a lot of them didn't fit, so yeah. . ."

He also practically danced out of his skin when he found out that old yellow-orange jacket and olive cargo man-capris didn't fit, but no, that fact wasn't going to come up. So close, so close! He was getting there. Every inch, every centimeter, every millimeter he was closer to her.

Lightning smiled into the rim of her coffee cup. "I guess I never realized how fast you were growing up."

Hope could barely contain his brimming joy from something so simple. Maybe he could just . . . .

"Light, I. . . I want to tell you, I –"

"Get down."

Hope stared at her incredulously. "wha—" Lightning already had a serious face on, standing out of her seat with a hand on her weapon hilt.

"I said get the hell down!" She pushed the table out of the way, and shoved his head down forcefully with her palm. If he hadn't moved his legs to the side fast enough, he would've smashed his teeth off his knees. He felt a gust fly past his head, and various screams of people around. With his neck released from Lightning's vice grip, he looked up, to see a four-legged bioweapon snarling.

A handful of Guardian corps came onto the scene, including Lightning, ready as always. "Sergeant Lightning!" One of the soldiers called, a subordinate by the colour of his shoulder guard. "A shipment of bioweapons were on their way to the Whitewood, but we got a call that the networking board went haywire!"

"It's haywire alright," Lightning spat, glaring down the animal-turned-science, that shuddered and twitched with electricity surging through it's veins and cords. "Stay down, Hope."

Lightning charged, a few quick slashes scraping away at the former animal's body plating. In the midst of her slash, the beast snapped its teeth at the sergeant. Lightning shifted back as a blur of colour struck the beast in the eye and whirred back to its owner.

"Hope!"

Hope gave her a confident grin, tapping his boomerang over his shoulder. "I haven't rusted any more than you have."

While the rest of the troops made quick work of the several other bioweapons on the loose, Hope noted the nostalgia of fighting behind Lightning – only without spells this time. True, he hadn't actually fought for a long time, but it was still there dusted over in his head.

Lightning ended the fight quick enough. She leaped over the beast, embedding three bullets in the back of its circuit board in the process. The beast bucked back in its defeat, catching her on the landing. Lightning's right leg caught under the beast, pulling her to the ground faster than she planned.

"Light!" Hope ran over, and helped her out from under the metallic body over top of her – luckily, it only caught her one leg. She hissed in irritation and swore with words that would make even Fang blush. She kicked her boot off – the rest of the Guardian Corps were now cleaning up the mess – to reveal a scraped, bleeding, and slightly purple-ish calf.

"We should get that fixed up," Hope fretted – dammit, if only he had a manadrive, or his l'cie magic still. "We, uh –"

"There's a medical station back at the offices," Lightning grunted, pushing away from Hope's support, limping on her own strength.

"H-hey, you'll make it worse!"

"It's fine. The office isn't that far."

"Light, ten-something blocks is far enough when you've only got one good leg."

Lightning clenched her teeth. "Fine. I'll call over one of the lieutenants and –"

Hope grabbed the older woman by the shoulders, turning her around. Not that forcefully, but enough to guide her actions to fit with his. He turned around, took one leg in either hand, and hefted her onto his back.

"Hope, what're you—?"

"The other guys are busy," Hope reasoned. "I can do this much."

"No way. I weigh more than you, plus my weapon is –" She pushed away from his shoulders, but that only proved to set them off balance slightly. Hope regained his footing and kept his hold on her legs.

"Will you please just let me do this for you, Lightning? Lean forward, if you keep squirming I won't be able to hold on," He almost pleaded, but looked over his shoulder with a smile. "You said it yourself, right? I'm grown up now, I can handle it."

He turned forward, and started walking. Her attitude silenced, all Lightning could do was observe the back of Hope's stature. A skinny thing, he was. Not much broader than herself. But with the way his shoulder width was growing, it wouldn't be long before he left her behind.

Doing as she was told, for once, Lightning leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You're not done growing yet, kid."

Hope thought his heart would explode out of his chest.

**AN**:

– I had to get some action in. It's Final Fantasy, after all. AND IF AT FOURTEEN YEARS OF AGE, HOPE CAN PULL A BOOMERANG OUT OF HIS ASS AND BE PROFICIENT IN BATTLE, HE SURE AS HELL CAN DO IT WHEN HE'S ALMOST SEVENTEEN.


	8. 5'7 Goal

**5'7" – Goal.**

**Monday**

"Lightning, I love you . . . wait – Éclair, I love you. (Yeah, that sounds better.) I-I mean, not that kind of childish kid thing – a-and not like a sibling or anything either! I mean like. . . a real like. As a person, as a woman. I-I've liked you ever since you gave me that knife, o-or even, before then. I still have it – the knife – by the way, it's in my room actually—b-but that's not the point. The. . . the thing is, I'm hoping you see me the same way. I mean, as a man. I-I'm not a kid anymore, so—"

"You know, I don't think the fridge is a good practice partner."

Hope twisted to see Fang and Vanille behind him, and blushed furiously. "Though they're similar enough. They're both cold and hard to move," Fang clapped a hand on the young man's shoulder, looking him over. "So, how tall are you now?"

Hope beamed. "Five Seven on the dot." Vanille giggled with glee.

"Congratulations! See, it only took a couple years, and you're all grown up now!"

He had grown, that was true. It hadn't occurred to him as much as it had to the others around him. His childish face was slowly but surely maturing, but keeping that softness that his eyes brought. His legs made up most of his body, lankiness purely from the phase. "Teenage boy syndrome – or TBS,"He Sazh had called it with a laugh. "Eat a lot, don't gain a pound, but ya' grow taller and taller and taller."

"So after all this time, surely you've made some kind of plan on confessing to your puma?" Fang interrupted his daze.

". . . Not really," Hope muttered sheepishly, flustered. "And she's not a puma."

"If she accepts you, she is."

"B-but –"

"You might wanna be careful, though," Vanille warned in a singsong tone. "I was talking to Serah, and apparently Lightning's been doing a lot of work lately. She's kind of moody, it seems.

". . . Well, more than usual, anyhow," Vanille added on from a quick afterthought.

Hope sighed. "Great. Really winding up to a good situation for me," He grinned sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

**Tuesday**

He stood outside the Guardian Corps offices, nervously fingering the strap of his messenger bag. _She should be coming out soon,_ he told himself for the seventh time over the past ten minutes. He had conveniently taken to staying at Serah and Snow's place in Bodhum this time around – claimed it was to check out post-secondary options, he did.

"Y'need something?" A sandy haired Guardian corps – a grunt, by the looks of the shoulderguard colour – asked, stopping before entering to look over Hope.

"Ah, no, not really. I'm just waiting for Light – Er, sergeant Lightning," Hope answered, clearing his throat. The soldier gave him a quizzical look.

"Huh, didn't think the sergeant knew any kids," he laughed – or was that a scoff? "How old are you, boy? fifteen?"

"Sixteen, actually. Almost seventeen," Hope answered, trying to keep the tongue-in-cheek tone to a minimum.

"Is there any reason for your delay, sir?" A calm voice asked from the door. The soldier turned around and stood at attention, saluting and muttering an apology before shuffling into the building.

"What're you doing here?" Lightning returned her attention to the ashen haired boy waiting at the doorstep.

"I'm gonna be in town for a while. I just wanted to. . . see you. Serah said you were at work, so. . . yeah," He finished kind of lamely, but smiled nonetheless. The constant droop to her mouth stilled for a minute, though she gave him something of a half-smile.

"I don't mind seeing you," She said, "but I'm still in the middle of a shift. And I'll be home late tonight, so I'll see if I can arrange some free time tomorrow." She let him absorb that before continuing. "Sound good?"

"Uh, yeah!" He was staring dumbly for a minute – all the courage he had summed up drowning slightly – before answering. "Tomorrow, sure. Yeah. I'm staying at Snow's place, so you can find me . . . I-I guess I'll leave you to your work then!" He gave a cheerful wave, before turning to walk off. He had walked a little to quickly away, he realized in hindsight.

Lightning leaned against the door and watched him go.

". . . Well, at least he didn't drop himself in an awkward situation in the middle of my house this time."

**Wednesday**

He debated all morning about calling her. Was it too eager? Or did she need a reminder? Surely she'd remember. If she didn't, he'd have no chance anyhow. He looked at his cellphone, as well as the home phone. Cellphone. Home phone. Cellphone. Home phone. Cellphone. Home phone.

"Augh, I haven't even told her anything yet!" He despaired to the empty house. Serah and Snow had both gone to work, leaving him in the abode. He ran his hands rather violently through his bed head. He paced about, moving from the kitchen to the living room and back. The minute the phone rang (The home phone, that is) he practically leaped over the couch to get it.

"Yes, hello?"

". . . Hope?"

It was her, oh crap it was her and he practically screamed into the receiver. He balled his free hand, quite ready to punch himself in the vocal chords so he could never speak again and save the world – well, save himself – from any more verbal disasters. He exhaled, and returned to the phone.

"Yeah, it's me," He was as casual as possible. "So, are you free today?"

"No, actually," She sighed. "The colonel just dumped a mountain of paperwork on me. I won't have more than fifteen minute breaks in between if I want to finish this."

He was about to protest, _no, fifteen minutes is enough! _But decided against it. For one, it was far too desperate-sounding, and two, he wasn't completely sure he could get the words right knowing he had a fifteen minute timeline. (And, he would like to think that if he confessed his love in the middle of her workday, she wouldn't be able to get any work done. _He would like to think._)

"No worries," He passed it off. "Maybe . . .tomorrow? I'm off school, so I don't really have a time limit. . ."

"I'll see," Lightning agreed after a quick moment of thought.

**Thursday**

No sign of Lightning. At all.

No calls, no messages. Hope had even phoned her, but no response. She must be at work, he assumed.

Well, there's always tomorrow. . .

**Friday**

Found out why Lightning was basically missing.

"Sick?" Hope parroted into the phone.

"Yeah, sorry," Lightning rasped on the other end. "I slept all yesterday. I should be fine soon though. . ."

"D-do you want me to come over? I'll make you something to eat and –"

"No, it's fine," She cut in, "You're better off not catching it."

"But –"

_click._

**Saturday**

So, 'no time limit' turned into 'your train leaves at 11am on Sunday'. His dad called, and he was needed at home. _Dammit._

He held his resolve. He was going to do this, and do this _now._

That's what he planned, anyhow. Standing at Lightning's door, he wasn't so sure how smoothly this plan would go.

He pressed the buzzer. A mangled, "Who is it?" came through the intercom.

"It's Hope," He steeled himself as he spoke, "I know you're still sick but I really need to talk to you."

A silent moment. "Okay, make it quick."

Lightning answered the door soon after, and if Hope wasn't holding onto his resolve with all his might, he might've made a joke. Poor Lightning was the image of sick – dressed in an ugly old t-shirt and battered sweatpants rolled to the knee, her hair tied out of the way and was that a tissue stuck up her left nostril? Her eyes were dazed and her face was red with fever.

She sniffled, kind of disgustingly. All snot-filled and such. "What do you need, Hope?" She wiped her nose along her bare wrist, taking out the tissue in her nose in the process, letting him step past her into the entrance hall.

"Do you mind if we sit down somewhere? Like I said, it's. . . important."

Lightning shook her head. "I'm sorry, maybe another time," She sighed. "I know I keep cancelling on you, but I just feel like crap—"

"Please, I just-just really need to tell you!" He wasn't irritated, it wasn't pleading. He just wanted a minute, something, some spare bit of her time just to get this off his chest. It was going to eat away at him.

She was puzzled by his forwardness. He took the moment of surprise to step forward and take her by the shoulders. Shoulders parallel to his. Shoulders _equal_ to his.

"Light, I know you're sick, and I know this isn't the best time –" He hissed an inhale, "But I've been trying to just get one minute alone with you. I've been trying so hard to talk to you because I wanted to tell you I like you and – Oh."

Crap. This wasn't planned at all. Well, run with it! She seemed stunned enough, or was that her cold putting her out of sorts?

"Hope, what do you –" She began, looking around. He loosened his grip on her shoulders, from a vice to a gentle hold. He made sure to look straight at her.

"Lightning Farron, I'm in love with you."

Her eyes were wide, wider than he'd ever seen them. She opened her mouth, and closed it again. Since his mouth was apparently so _terribly good_ at talking, he took that opportunity to continue.

"I know you always see me as a kid, but – but I'm older now. Look at me, Light. I'm as tall as you, even!"

She took that minute to look him over. He was right. His shoulders squared where hers did.

And then a blush ran furiously over her face, doubling the redness of her fever. She brought a hand to her forehead. "I . . . I don't know . . . I-I—" she stammered.

He was afraid of this. He pulled her forward, keeping his skinny arms around her. _How . . . feminine,_ the attention deficit part of his mind noticed,_ her hair smells like fruit._

"You don't have to answer now, but I really wanted to tell you. I've waited so long. . . L-Lightning?"

He had originally taken it as her accepting his hug, but she kind of slumped forward. And wasn't supporting her own weight. She almost slipped out of his grip. "Light?" He tried again, no response. He looked at her face. For a moment, he thought she had fallen asleep, but her forehead was burning into his shoulder.

"O-oi!" She slipped a little in his grip, limp as a noodle. The door swung open.

"Hey, sergeant sickness, door was open so we're here to take care of ya' for the da—"

Snow and Serah came into the entry hall to be greeted by a bewildered Hope half holding up an unconscious Lightning like a bad puppeteer.

Silence.

Serah buried her face in her hands with a groan. "Her fever put her to sleep right after you told her? Augh, that girl –"

"It was probably this, too." Hope motioned over his shoulder to the open bottle of night time cold relief. The label blatantly promoted 'have you sleeping in minutes!'.

They had moved Lightning to her bedroom, where she currently lay under the covers with a cold cloth under her fringe. Orderly, strategic Lightning's room was actually a smorgasbord of used tissues. By the looks of it, she had just missed her already overflowing trashcan quite a few times.

Snow was somewhat amused, now that he was allowed to be. "She almost seems _human_, getting sick like that."

Serah and Hope both elbow jabbed him from either side.

"I was just kidding . . ."

"Well," Serah stood up from the chairs they assembled at the bedside, "We brought some take-out soup for her. I can't imagine she's eaten a whole lot being bedridden." She tugged at Snow's arm to make the man move. "We can go get it."

Hope nodded. "Okay, I'll wait here."

"Of _course_ you will~"

Serah smacked the back of her husband's head – though she had to jump to do so. (Clearly, someone wore the pants in the relationship regardless.) The two of them left the room, easy bickering fading away slowly. Hope turned to Lightning. There wasn't a sound in the room, save for Lightning's even, albeit congested breathing pattern. With no one else around, Hope left his chair and sat on the edge of the bed.

She mumbled something incoherent in her sleep. Hope chuckled lightly. His eyes darted from either side of the room before resting back on Lightning. _What she doesn't know won't hurt her,_ he convinced himself.

Hope leaned over gently, brushing her bangs away and lightly kissed her burning forehead. He lingered for a moment, but his back turned ramrod straight at the sound of a crash below.

"Snow!" He could hear Serah's muffled scolding.

Out of concern – and, let's admit it, smirking curiosity – Hope stood up to go see what the matter was. That is, until a warm hand took him by the wrist. He turned around. From the edge of the blanket, out peaked Lightning's hand, currently grasping his wrist. His breath stopped for a minute. Was she awake?

Her eyes were closed, but that didn't mean anything. She mumbled something again. Something in him lifted up. Extremely so. He was ecstatic, but as quiet as possible about it. (Didn't want to disturb her, after all.) He sat back down, shifting arm to hold her hand in his own properly.

"I'll take that as a yes."

**Owari.**

**AN**:

5'7" – Endings. The bane of my existence. I wrestled with about seven different endings, and couldn't make a complete solution to any of them. So, sorry for making parts in a part. (I turned it into a flow chart oh god what have I done.)

Thank you to everyone who's read it all, and stuck through all 23 pages of my headcanon! (Yeah, 23 pages. I can't believe I put you all through this, _I am so sorry._ ) I'm sure I'll have more LightHope fics to do (With more compromising and/or crack situations), so please keep supporting me! \o/

As per review on LJ, I've also added an Epilogue in Lightning's perspective. Please continue on and read it as well!


	9. Epilogue

**Epilogue – Never Kiss a Sergeant And Walk Away**

Have you ever had one of those mornings where you don't actually move out of bed, you just keep replaying different moments in your head?

"_Lightning Farron, I'm in love with you."_

The ceiling fan spun and spun and spun as she watched it whirl slowly above her.

"_Lightning Farron, I'm in love with you._"

She sniffled, wiping excess snot with an already abused tissue.

"_Lightning Farron, I'm in love with—"_

She bolted into seated position, the springs of her bed creaking in protest.

Her week just hadn't gone well. Work piled up because of recruit training week, and not to mention her leg was still a tad sore when strained from the minor accident the month or so before. And then she had to get sick.

In that sense, she was grateful for Hope's random pop-ins. It was a relief, a break. Because really, as far as the GC know, Sergeant Lightning Farron hasn't taken a break in about five plus years. She took comfort in his presence. He wasn't overwhelming like Snow or Vanille could be, and he was easy to make conversation with. He could fill a room with a smile, like Serah, and had a subtle maturity that at times could rival Sazh.

And, back then when he was younger. . . he was kind of like . . . like a . . .

A sheep.

Easily frightened and in need of herding. Pure and white and protected by a thick coat called the walls in his mind. And when he wouldn't listen, all you had to do was bark enough to frighten him into submission. He could be fluffy and comfortingly cute (_Did I really just think that?_) and with his size, it would be easy to lose him in a herd – well, crowd.

Lightning sighed, and laid back down.

He wasn't a sheep any more. Every time he visited, he was taller, or broader, or his voice a tone deeper. His face matured a pinch every time he turned around, but his eyes still held the gleam of youth.

"I sound like Sazh, talking about youth . . ." She expressed to the ceiling fan, its quiet hum her only comfort.

And now, this fully grown sheep – _A goat, maybe? No, he's not obnoxious or creepy looking_ – came and professed his love to the sheep dog that herded him for so long. Correction, continued to herd him. He so seriously looked into her eyes, and all of a sudden the sheep was staring down the dog, and the dog was going to dissolve with the command from his emerald eyes.

"He has worse timing than Snow," She smirked to the fan.

A little before he came to her door, she had woken up after about 30 hours of sleep. Her eyes were puffy and it took four tries to get out of bed, stuffy head vertigo her worst enemy. If she didn't have what little consciousness she had, she would've downed the entire bottle of night time cold formula. She remembered lamenting after hearing the buzzer, hoping it wasn't someone coming to see how she was faring because _she was not faring_. She was going to sleep, and that was it.

Hope's urgency had convinced her. She opened the door, he came straight in, and got down to business. (In reality, he was lucky she even comprehended his confession, considering the minute she opened the door she started yawning.)

How had she never picked up on this . . . admiration? He was so serious about it. Now she felt a bit detestable for being so . . . naïve? No, oblivious. In a roundabout way, she walked over his feelings without noticing it. Like gum stuck to your shoe that you only notice when it's covered your sole, only less annoying.

"Not annoying at all," She mumbled. Lightning flopped a hand on her forehead. No fever any more, but her face was warm for another reason. She sat up again, this time confident.

Who knew an epiphany could give someone a resolve.

Sound familiar?

"Where's Sis today?" Snow asked casually over the table, he and his wife eating breakfast. "I heard she got over that cold."

"Dunno," Serah hummed. "I called her this morning to check up on her, but she said she was on her way out."

"Out?"

"To the train station," she said between bites. "On her way to Palumpolum."

"Palumpolum?" Snow repeated, not between bites, "What for?"

Serah set her fork down. "You really have to ask? She hasn't seen Hope since she collapsed on him."

"Oh? . . . Oh—_oh._" Snow grinned.

Lightning made it. It was the afternoon still, too. The trip was shorter than she had suspected. Of course she never forgot the route to the house – it was one of the ones on the highest part of the cliff side that Palumpolum was built on.

She rung the doorbell. The automatic chime rang through the house, muffled by the door. Looked like the house didn't have an intercom. No matter, She'd just talk to him face to face when he came to the door. Or when his father came to the door and called him down. Or or or. . .

She was there for about four and a half minutes. Nobody came to the door. More impatiently than she intended, the sergeant pushed the doorbell again. No answer. Again. Still nothing. Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring ring –

"Light . . . why are you abusing my doorbell?"

She pulled her thumb away from the doorbell like it attacked her, whirling around to face Hope. She never lost composure, though – even when repeatedly pressing a button.

"I thought you were finished school until the fall?" She lifted a brow. He, however, was more confused than she.

"Am I not allowed to leave my house?" He was a little bewildered – but shook his head regardless. "That doesn't matter, at least I caught you now. But, Lightning, what're you doing here?"

She rose a brow. Big of him to ask why she was here, after popping into her place so many times. Whatever. "You really have to ask?" She gave him that _look_, the trademark Lightning look – a slight angle down the nose, somewhere between a glare and a stare-down that isn't full-frontal and angry, but promising hurt. Hope swallowed and instinctly, his cheeks took on a shade of pink.

"I guess, since you were still asleep, I _did_ kind of leave abruptly . . ."

"Yes. You did."

_Ouch,_ Hope thought. But that's Lightning, after all. "W-well, why don't you come in at least, instead of standing outside my door?"

"So the weird little awkward moments . . ."

". . . yeah."

"And the staring . . ."

"Y-you noticed?"

"And that comment about having children . . ."

"I was hoping you wouldn't remember that."

"Oh I really doubt I could forget it." Lightning sat like she always did – perfect posture with one knee over the other, taking even sips of coffee. Across the table from her, Hope let his head fall to the table with a thud. "So when did this start?" She would be calm about this, strong about it. It was just like everything else. Right?

Hope sat back up slowly. "A while ago, actually . . . not too long after I met you," He admitted, looking up sparingly, otherwise staring the table down with all his might. "You were so . . . admirable. I-I mean, you still are, that hasn't changed at all. You never panicked and faced things head on, while all I could do back then was run and hide . . . I mean, I was practically a –"

"A sheep?"

"What?" He was a little caught off guard by that one.

"N-never mind," She shrugged it off, placing the coffee mug back on the table. "But then, why did you wait so long?"

At that, he laughed. "You really have to ask?" He smiled at her, a small embarrassed one at that. "Let's face it – I was a kid. I . . . I still am. I guess, I just needed to grow up a little." He leaned his head in one of his hands – big hands, she noticed. Not thick, calloused ones like Snow's, but with a wide palm and thin fingers. He opened his mouth again, but closed it.

She raised a brow in question.

"N-no, don't worry about it."

"I'm not worried."

"That's not what I mean, I—"

"Tell me, Hope."

Ack. Out came her sergeant tone again. He shifted awkwardly.

"So, I originally got this idea – a childish one, now that I think about it, ha ha . . ." He rolled his eyes, but not at Lightning. "I was pretty short, right? And not to mention, I didn't have the courage to tell you."

Apocalyptic situations and Fal'Cie be damned.

"So, I decided that I'd tell you when I got to your height!" He admitted, speeding up his speech. "Snow told me you were five foot seven. I was only five foot at the time, so –"

"Why does Snow know how tall I am?"

"Serah told him."

She hummed. "Continue."

"So I would wait however long it takes until I got to 5'7". No matter how long that took," He finished. Silence fell. ". . . And, that's all there was to it."

Lightning honestly didn't have much to reply with. Hope decided to keep talking.

"So . . . besides getting the whole story," Hope ventured, "I'm going to assume you came here to give me your answer too?"

"Never assume things," She said evenly.

"Assumption or not, I want to know." He took her free hand. She held in a hiss.

"You want the truth?"

He nodded.

"I always thought I had to look after you." She was honest and blunt. Nothing new. Though he was expecting something like this, Hope admitted it still kind of hurt. "You were a comrade, a friend, and good back-up once you got used to battle. You were a kid thrown into peril who needed a helping hand in climbing out."

"But I—"

She held up a hand, stopping him. She stood up. "But you've grown out of that. You've climbed past the hand I held out to you, and even pulled me along with you. All of a sudden, you were an. . . irreplaceable presence."

He stood up this time. "So you –"

She nodded slowly – not gravely, but it had gravity to it. She was blushing – god, when was the last time she did that? Never, that's when. "Hope, you didn't need to grow up for me to return your feelings. I just –"

"Frick, Snow, stop taking up so much room!"

"Hey hey, don't judge me! It's all muscle!"

"Hush, guys! It's getting to the good part!"

"I can't see, Fang!"

Hope and Lightning looked to each other before moving to the window. They were on the first floor, yes, but that didn't mean anything. The double-paned window was open a crack, revealing a shuffling noise. There shouldn't be anything under that window but pavement and hedges.

They opened the window and looked down. If Lightning had her weapon on her, she probably would've drawn it.

Under the window, plastered to the wall was the expected: their friends. (Do friends stalk outside your house?)

Serah waved. "Hi . . . guys!" her greeting was a little lackluster.

"Okay, so Serah told me that you had left for Palumpolum this morning –"

"And then Vanille and Fang came over for lunch today, and asked about you two."

"Well, we asked if you two had gotten together yet—"

"But since none of us had any idea, we decided to come here . . ."

"We didn't mean to end up under the window, really! By the time we got here, you guys went into the house all serious-like."

"So we didn't want to intrude."

"If it's any consolation, listening in was Snow's idea."

"Was not—!"

Lightning, as usual, gave them all the glare-down. They all shut up for the moment, but it was Vanille who cut to the chase, skipping between Hope and Lightning and grabbing them both by the shoulders.

"Have you two kissed yet?"

Hope and Lightning both jumped back like she was poisonous.

"Wha—I, th-that is –"

"Vanille, why would we jump to that—"

She seemed almost disappointed, pouty. "Well why not?" The two of them opened their mouths to speak, but nothing came out. The only logical thing to do then was to close them. "Then at least tell us you're together now, right?" Vanille gave the kind of smile that had a deadly gleam to it. "You know, _that_ kind of together."

There was a moment of silence. Hope volunteered to fill it. Jumped at the opportunity, actually.

The boy – the _young man_; oh this was going to take some getting used to – slipped his arm around Lightning's shoulders, pulling her into him. He smiled and nodded. "Of course!"

The group all looked relieved in their congratulations for the two of them, the whole lot thinking _oh thank god, I hadn't thought of anything to say if she rejected him._

(Lightning in the meantime had elbowed Hope in the side for taking her by surprise. He tried not to cringe too much at the impact below his ribs.)

"Let's go out to eat, to celebrate!" Snow proposed with a pump of his fist. "Hope's treat!"

"Hey!"

"That's not a bad idea," Fang mused. "Let's go then!"

The group nodded unevenly to each other, and began to march to the door. Lightning, mildly flustered, hesitated. Hope looked back to her while the rest of them continued on the move.

Let's cut in to Hope's thoughts at that moment.

_Do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it – _

Hope took Lightning's wrist into his hand, and as per habit, his eyes shifted about to make sure nobody was looking. She looked down to their joined hands, then up at him. She was very ready to frown at everyone's mirth and go home regardless, but Hope erased those thoughts once he took her opposite hand as well, and kissed her square on the mouth.

He tasted like the coffee they had been drinking earlier. The kiss was very . . . Hope. It reflected his personality: chaste from inexperience, sweet from real emotion, clumsy but doing his best to be meaningful and take charge for once in his life. He closed his eyes, she noticed, probably for some kind of dramatic effect. That didn't stop the surprise coating her expression. He slowly pulled away, a gentle smile on his face in tow with a noticeable blush that mirrored her own.

"I told you not to assume things," She muttered with an embarrassed cough, shifting her fingers to lace them with his own. "But I'll let this one go." Hope, on the other hand, was feeling brave enough to chance another kiss.

Fang and Snow called from the door as Hope leaned forward again. _Nosy lot,_ Lightning thought dryly in the back of her mind.

"Hurry up, munchkin! That food ain't gonna pay for itself!"

"You two can smack all ya' like after we eat!"

**Owari. Really.**

**OHWAIT**

**Omake:**

"I'm 5'8", actually."

Hope nearly snorted out his coffee. "E-excuse me?"

"The GC makes the troops do mandatory health statistic checks monthly. Last month my chart said 5'8." Lightning answered easily.

" . . . God dammit," Hope muttered.

"Watch your language."

"Yes ma'am."

**Notes:**

Epilogue – I'm finally done, thank god! By the way, my headcanon image of Lightning's thought process throughout the game is that Hope = Sheep. And Chyeah, Lightning so wears the pants. At least until Hope hits like, twenty-something. AND THE SHEEP STUFF IS BECAUSE OF PIXIV. [/shakes fist] DAMN YOU PIXIV.

Omake – Because. . . because I can.

EDIT: PS. THE CAST IS LIKE ONE BIG COCKBLOCK. HA.


End file.
